Drakhir’s History

The birth of Drakhir & Cardiel, third and fourth sons to the Ducal house of Khahn was an unpleasant surprise.  The noble human family was shocked to find one of their twin children born with blue skin, white hair and horns, and the other had the same red eyes as the first, but was human in all other respects.  Unfortunately, there were noble witnesses to the birth, so they could not be swept under the rug and disinherited.  His mother Letha, who was immediately under serious pressure to explain how she had a blue-skinned tiefling was thankfully supported by the granduncle, who said the otherworldy blood ran in the family, although was very rare.

Drakhir’s childhood was not an easy one, being teased and discriminated against by most of his family and castle staff.  His granduncle Therion, however, seemed fond of the child, but he was an old man and, although feared, rarely listened to.  He did keep Drakhir safe and told him many stories of places far away and of magics rare and strange.  The old man also educated Drakhir on history and languages.  He was teased by his older brothers and his sisters for his abnormal appearance.

Cardiel’s childhood was better, as he was almost normal and clearly the more athletic of the two.  He excelled at the martial training the boys were put through and garnered the respect of the guards and staff.

When Drakhir was around six it became apparent that the supernatural patron of the family appeared to take an interest in him – the first such interest in two generations.  He experienced dreams of a grey and black plane of existence and a shadow which tried to be telling him something.   His granduncle listened to him, and quietly told him they were dreams of the Shadowfell or of the Raven Queens abode.  Therion also told him to speak to no one but his father Dracken or himself about it.  Their father, although disappointed that it was his blue skinned son, was pleased the patron had once again taken an interest in the family, for his uncle had provided them much guidance and support in his time.   He also advised him to learn as much he could for the day when he would go forth from the family’s home. 

The hours Drakhir spent in study, Cardiel spent with the sword. Always a spiritual child, Cardiel felt a surge of excitement when told tales of Tyr’s heroism in the Time of Troubles and Second Sundering. While not the most fervent, he dreamed of bearing Tyr’s standard on the battlefield, meting out justice upon those who would harm innocents.  It was because of this fascination with the light and justice that convinced Drakhir not to tell his twin of the Shadow and its influence in his life.

Soon after Drakhir and Cardiel turned sixteen, their granduncle died, and the boys were more alone than ever in the family, having only one another to talk with.  The family pressure grew on Drakhir and Cardiel – not only were they not needed as heirs, but their appearances and Tiefling heritage was a potential embarrassment to the family.  Both boys were encouraged to go out into the world and make their fortunes.  The family was relieved when they set out towards Waterdeep. 

When they reached Waterdeep, they started making connections among the nobles there.  Their peers don’t quite know what to make of them, their family credentials are impeccable, but Drakhir’s tiefling heritage is unnerving, and Cardiels eyes were a reminder of his brother even when they were not together.

Drakhir’s Diary, session 1

After two weeks in Waterdeep, Cardiel was invited to a party at the Temple of Sune, where he met a visiting priestess there who apparently made an impression, for he went to three more parties there in the following week.  Red hair is apparently sacred to Sune, so I understand a little of why Cardiel was invited back to the parties at the temple.  Apparently red eyes are not, but they can overlook that in him.  Then she apparently left without a note, and he appeared a bit crestfallen for days afterward. 

After a few days, however, she returned, this time with her sister in tow.  Cardiel then introduced us over lunch, and, to her credit, they are both astonishingly good company, and radient in a way that only aasimar can be.  Their mere presence demands the attention of every man in the room, and stand out like a candle in the night. 

Frankly, I am surprised at first that Cardiel would have the courage to speak with Sapphire at all, but a few minutes of conversation with them answered that question – she is very good at making people feel at ease, blessed with true social grace.  I do note, however, that he still gets a little tongue tied around them both.  I attempted a little light hearted flirting with the sister, but I am so rusty at this social skill that I doubt anyone noticed it.  She is so beautiful and socially skilled, not to mention preoccupied, that my efforts fail to garnish attention.  Which is likely a good thing.  I recall an odd phrase that Aasimir and Tieflings don’t often mix well.  With my own stygian heritage, I often come across as cold and unapproachable, or so my socially proficient siblings tell me.

The sisters are apparently searching for some missing friends, and trying to avoid attention from some group of criminals, I gather, although it’s not said out loud.  Cardiel (and by extension, myself) offer to escort them south east to Daggerford, where Sapphire says they should expect to find word, or at least to get guidance from her goddess.  I of all people understand this, as I receive cryptic messages from Shadow in my dreams quite often, however, the decyphering of its meaning is often beyond my comprehension, especially since Uncle died.  He had a gift – or at least decades of experience, in determining what was needed.

We leave Waterdeep, and head south. I’m not entirely unhappy with this as my purse was getting a bit light for the kind of social calendar we enjoyed there, or at least that Cardiel enjoyed there.  On the second evening out, the mists start gathering, and out of the mists come two figures.

Tall they are, and muscular, but their limbs seem clumsy, at least at first.  They are also blue, and dressed is mismatched commoner clothing.  And identical.  I confront them, and ask them their business, but they seem confused, and, if I may say so, daft at times.  They slightly remind me of some books I’ve read dealing with golems made of flesh, but their description is all wrong, so I’m really not sure what to make of them.  I offer them some food, unfortunately only the travel rations we have with us, and they eat, but seem very uninterested in it all.

Cardiel seems a bit protective, and when the strangers mention piles of bodies ten minutes walk away, we decide we must go investigate.  I extinguish the fire, and we set out.  Which turns out to be a big mistake.

The mist apparently is magical, and carries us away.  We walk about twenty to thirty minutes, and come across a road, with the mist filling in behind us.  It’s unnaturally cold and clammy, and I notice the others all seem to be affected by it.  We agree to follow our footsteps back, but not five minutes in, several of us stagger as if under a heavy weight, and we take the hint – we are not allowed to leave.

Oddly, far from being scary and intimidating, the shadows and mist seem oddly familiar.  Which is not to say that I doubt they will turn on me if they could, but for now, I appear to be the only one comfortable in the rain and mist of this odd plane.  Whether it’s because of my Stygian blood or the influence of Shadow, I know not.

We are herded by the mist down the road, where we come to a large wall with a gate and two giant statues.  We make camp under one of the statues, which provides some shelter from the rain, and bed down for the night.  Getting a campfire lit requires magic, but it keeps us warm.  In the morning, two of our watches reported hearing wolves howling in the distance. 

We enter the gates, and it ominiously swings closed behind us.  We keep moving, and come to a place where there is the body of a young man alongside the road.  He has a letter and a few coins on him, and I notice when we approach him that Vendetta is noticably upset, until it’s confirmed it’s not her friend, but a stranger.  The letter says:

“Hail thee of might and valor:

I, the Burgomaster of Barovia, send you honor—with despair.

My adopted daughter, the fair Ireena Kolyana, has been these past nights bitten by a vampyr. For over four hundred years, this creature has drained the life blood of my people. Now, my dear Ireena languishes and dies from an unholy wound caused by this vile beast. He has become too powerful to conquer.

So I say to you, give us up for dead and encircle this land with the symbols of good. Let holy men call upon their power that the devil may be contained within the walls of weeping Barovia. Leave our sorrows to our graves, and save the world from this evil fate of ours.

There is much wealth entrapped in this community. Return for your reward after we are all departed for a better life.

Kolyan Indirovich
Burgomaster”

My blood runs cold as I read the letter.  Memories from a lesson with my grand uncle Therion made mention of Barovia.  It is a plane off of the Shadowfell, where my guide  and mentor Shadow resides.  It holds a great evil, and is essentially a prison.  If we are there now, we are in grave danger.  Sometimes, if it useful to know a language nobody else does.  And Infernal is possibly the best language for swearing I’ve ever heard of.

I do not, however, let on to the others too much, other than to say that I suspect we are not in our plane any longer, and to be very cautious.  A few minutes after finding the body, we are set upon by wolves, and I am happy to say, we were victorious.  All of our little group appear to be proficient with violence and cool under pressure.

We continue along the road, and pass a cluster of buildings, barred and locked up as if they were under siege.  We then hear crying coming from ahead, and quicken our pace.  Two children, perhaps 7 and 10 years old, dressed in somber clothing, are crying outside of a large house.  They tell us there is a monster in their house, and that their baby brother is still inside. 

Cardiel looks them over, and then the house, and turns a little pale at the evil he senses there.  We all decide we are going in, and as we enter I put a charm against evil over my brash younger brother.  The first two floors are empty, with the exception of a music room with instruments which appear to play themselves.  As we make the third floor landing, a suit of armor animates and attacks.  We manage to take it down, but not before I take a strong hit to my side, most likely breaking some ribs, as my breathing is difficult and painful, but not too debilitating.

Diary of Vendetta – The mist

Sapphire and I found our way to Waterdeep after escaping our home of Westbridge. I don’t think we will ever be able to return. I regret having done that to my sister.

Once in Waterdeep we hear news of our friends, Romi and Elan, which have lead us to set our sites on Daggerford. That and the guild had was starting to sniff around. We couldn’t stay any longer. Sapphire requested the add of an acquaintance by the name of Cardiel and his brother Drakhir. I’m not sure what all she has told them of our predicament but they know we are in search of Romi and Elan.

A few days out from Waterdeep we meet two very strange twins. They know things, things they shouldn’t know, things that worry me. They speak of red silk and a pile of bodies, a strange mist, and of a song I would play in the guilds den. I am sure I have never seen them before. We request for them to take us to where they have seen these things.

‘The mist, the mist, it came all around’

As we walked a mist formed giving the sensation of becoming lost, but we needed… I needed to see this through. If Romi was died… no he can’t be dead.

‘shrouding the world till we could not be found’

When the mist finally cleared we were somewhere else. It was later than it should have been, and rain fell at a steady rate on a road that was different than the one we had come from. I had a feeling of dread, of wrongness, and I was not the only one. We attempted to follow our tracks back but the mist would not have it. So, we continued down this new path with only one way to go. As we did the mist followed.

‘when the mist cleared, we knew we were lost’

‘but the mist would not let us go without a cost’

We traveled down the road for a time until we came across a colossal closed gate guarded by headless figures of stone. As we approached the gate swung open. Try as we might we didn’t recognize the figures, but they made for a small reprieve from the rain so we could sleep.

‘along the path came a gate’

‘guarded by souls who could not see our fate’

‘their heads did lay, fallen on the ground’

‘as we approached their gates came unbound’

The gates closed behind us once we had walked through and the mist flooded against it. I don’t believe we would be going back that way. We continued down the path until the smell of death filled the air. My heart was in my throat, but it couldn’t be him. It had to be someone else.

‘the smell of rot, drifted around the bend’

‘would this be where his fate did end

It was not him, but another who had been attacked by animals. Likely wolves from the howls that were becoming more frequent. He held a letter speaking of a town call Barovia and of vampires. I had only heard of vampires in tales but I’d believe they would live in this place.

‘it was not him but the remains of another’

‘ragged and gnawed, for the wolves supper’

The wolves had not been sated by the dead man. They attacked us and while fighting them off we came to a disturbing realization. Our magic had changed in this place. My once beautiful music had become sorrowful and at time horrific.

Diary of Khaavren – We have found the sword

Well, it has been a while since my last entry. I feel like we’ve been in a marathon with little to no rest. When last I wrote, I had gained some additional direction and guidance by binding myself to the unicorn Mooncolor. She taught me that it is not weakness to help and nurture others, and that there is power in healing.

Well, we have made it through Avernus to the place where the temple which protected the sword was. We pierced the veil hiding it from most of the denizens of Avernus. We then made our way through the scab surrounding the temple, fighting demons along the way. When we reached the temple, I opened the doors, and we entered. There was the spirit of one of Zariel’s paladins guarding the place, and she took us into one of Lulu’s dreams to test our worthiness.

Inside the dream there was the town of Idylglen, and it was under attack by gnolls and demons. We fought them off, and while we were doing so, Korvold the kobold witnessed the death of the first of his name. Apparently the name is more of a title and not hereditary. He somehow used a soul coin to trade places with the paladin, and is now trapped in a coin, while the paladin Korvold inhabits his body.

We fight off the demons and fight Yeenagu the demon lord of gnolls, when Zariel and Lulu arrive and kick the demon lord through a portal, and slam it shut behind it. Zariel then asks us what we would do would we risk our very beings to assault Avernus to try and end these assaults or would we just keep defending. Knowing what I know about her assault on Avernus, I tell her no, and that if she lost herself, she would be an even bigger threat to the innocent than the demons were, and they would not have her to defend them any longer.

We are transported back to the temple, and Lulu has regained all her memories. The spirit and Lulu then ask who will take the sword, and caution that it will “be the end of who you are”. I feel a need to offer myself as I have no one depending on me back in the real world, and indeed expect to be assassinated within a few years anyway. And if by my sacrifice I can help save Elturel, and these comrades of mine, the closest thing I have to family, I cannot decline.

Shiven backs up, unwilling to risk his life. Kavyre debates, but also does so as she has her village to save. Korvald the paladin says he is obligated to restore the soul of Korvold the 6th, and declines. Darien does not even offer or think it over. Falco steps up but is rejected by the sword for whatever reason.

I take the sword, and gain a new purpose. All my life flashes before me, and it is like it has been leading up to this. First, born among the evil drow, where I recognized that I was different. Then taking small steps fighting for rights for male drow, then freedom for slaves, then fleeing to the upper world. Once there, fighting for survival, then to make a comfortable life in Balders Gate. Helping refugees from Elturel and expecting nothing in return. Being gifted the amulet by a good hearted gnome priestess who saw more in me than I saw in myself. Then meeting Lulu and being transported to Avernus and the reality of that sinking in. Freeing prisoners in Elturel and helping the hopeless here. Freeing Mooncolor just as I was ready to take the next step. Learning how to nurture and help and not just kill and steal.


And now. The sword. She has a life and personality which are her own, and while others just call her the Sword of Zariel, she tells me to call her Nienor, which is elvish for lamentation, as she still mourns the fall of Zariel into evil. She is understanding of my search for meaning, and gives me a new purpose. I feel fulfilled, and if I die, I am confident my spirit will no longer go to the Abyss to be a plaything of the servants of Lolth, but will go to either Amoria to be with Mooncolor or Lunia to serve the celestials there. I am content with either.

I do not expect to be her caretaker for long, something inside me feels that Zariel will seek to claim her once again, for good or ill.

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